


Louise's Inner Struggle

by elizabethvaughan



Series: Braindead Alternate Universe (From Season Two on) [5]
Category: BrainDead (TV)
Genre: Also please know this "series" we keep posting has no official order yet, F/M, I Don't Even Know, I can't write descriptions I swear it doesn't suck, Its Laurel and Gareths Daughter, Still Can't Tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 04:56:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9584507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizabethvaughan/pseuds/elizabethvaughan
Summary: “Mom, have all Presidents always had a partner when they ran for President?” Louise asked.-One of Gareth and Laurel's kids struggles to determine how to find a life partner.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Abby here. Both Winona and I wrote this one, and it took some time. It's part of that universe continuation we're working on. More coming soon.  
> -  
> Louise- Taissa Farmiga  
> James- Evan Ross

The first time she thought of it was after watching the current Presidential candidates and their spouses waving to crowds as pairs on the news.  
“Mom, have all Presidents always had a partner when they ran for President?” Louise asked. Laurel paused and turned towards her daughter.  
“You know, I’m not so sure. But it seems like recently they all have.”  
“Do you think it would matter if a candidate didn’t have one?”  
“I wouldn’t think it would, at least politically”  
“But what about likability wise? Would it make you seem less relatable?” Laurel sighed, not really in her element when her daughter brought up the backbones of political appearance. She’s always more than willing to join in on her daughter’s bashing of the Republican party, but when it came to the public relation scene, well, that was more her brother or Gareth’s area.  
“I’m still not sure on that, love. Maybe your dad would know more.”  
Louise slumped back in her seat and continued to watch the coverage on the news. She had nothing against her father, but most of the time when politics were brought up between them, there was an argument that followed. And tonight she didn’t really feel like getting worked up.  
Louise periodically asked questions like this and socked away the answers in her brain like hoarded gold. She made it clear to almost everyone she met that she wanted to be president of the united states on day, and she invested herself fully in this task with a passion. For this reason, she asked questions like this on a regular basis. However, if she was being honest with herself, she wasn’t really sure if she would ever want to be with someone. She couldn’t tell if that were her actual idea, or just the part of her that was young enough to still think “boys have cooties” she knew had to be somewhere in her 9-year old head. She’d always wanted to be an independent, woman politician who didn’t need anyone. Like her idol, Hillary Clinton (okay, she had Bill. But she didn’t need him. She’d give anyone who questioned a logical 100 reasons why. And a black eye). But if her not having someone to stand beside her for that affected her chances at being the successful person she wanted to be, then she guessed she would just have to suck it up. If she wanted to run for President at the minimum age she had to be (and rest assured she was counting the years, days, months and so on), she would eventually have to find someone to marry.

\---

As she got older, she realized just how hard that truly was. She was always so conflicted with herself on this topic. In her early years as a teenager and young adult, she discovered just how fun it was to have a break once in awhile. She went to parties hosted by some friends she had made in school, and that was how she spent her time when she was not working on her career, school work, or family issues. And honestly, it was a nice change. She loved her life and career, but it was always nice to take a break, and just enjoy herself. (Or drink herself silly. That was fun too)  
Despite this, Louise was always cautious of her public image, and a little relaxation was not going to disrupt that. So that meant being cautious and making smart decisions. But there were those times she still allowed herself to let her guard down. And yes, there were those times she would end up going home with someone she got along with. If she was lucky they would agree to more than just that night later, but for the most part, the few relationships she had had been less than serious.  
She refused to talk to her parents about her love life, however much they may relieve the pressure of public opinion from her mind. Her mother and her often met once or twice a week for drinks and gossip, but she never dared to mention anything on the topic. It wasn’t that she wasn’t comfortable with her mom, in fact, Laurel and Louise were almost as thick as thieves. She just didn’t want her mom to feel even more guilty about the fact that their family’s life was always in the spotlight.  
Laurel had always struggled with the information the press managed to obtain on the family, and how obsessed the readers were with their lives. The Healy-Ritters were the Kardashians of D.C. politics, and she despised it. The press insisted on referring to these times as “The New Camelot”, but Laurel often wished her involvement in the space bug banishment and political reform of the past few years never happened. But she knew that because of all of the involvement her family and friends had in these events they would always kept in the limelight. While Louise often reveled in the press exposure she got (that is, most of the time), her siblings weren’t as enthused.  
Ever since Charlotte had come out to her parents at 15 and soon after had her first girlfriend, it had been a topic of the press. At the beginning, it had been the questioning. “Is she really a lesbian, or is it just a phase?” “What do her Republican family members think?” “Obviously her mother is going to support her, but what about her father?” Those types of headlines were shut down soon after they began, as Gareth had made a brief, supportive statement, and began to work to help his colleagues understand more on the issue. And now she had Alex, and they seemed beyond happy, thanks to Louise setting them up after noticing their similarities. Not that the press or their parents knew about that, however. Her parents currently didn’t even know Charlotte had moved back to D.C., and was currently hidden in her little sister’s apartment. But that was another beast to deal with on some other day.  
With Jacob, it always seemed so much easier for him. First, he never had that judgement that the press put on his sisters and most women when it came to relationships. He never had to worry that his latest fling would be plastered on tabloid pages the next day. He’s allowed to have one night stands, but if she ever dared to let it slip to the press she’s done the same, it would be in the news for a week. And if anything ever did get him in the news, it’s not like it would affect him or his whole career. He was also so damn relaxed about their family’s baggage that he could just brush it off with a joke and be done. He wanted nothing to do with the world of politics or DC, and so he lived in his own blissful bubble on the west coast, away from the commotion living in the nation’s capital entailed. It infuriated her, but she knew this was his choice, as much as she disagreed with it.  
She often feels as though she’s torn between emulating her siblings’ relationship styles. She’s at a moot point. She loves fun, but the secretism and sneaking around have worn thin over the years. However, she’s reasonably sure she’s not ready for anything too serious. She’s tried that with a few fellow democratic politicians’ children, but it honestly just isn’t for her. At least, not now. Louise won’t admit it, but she’s nervous as hell. She’s been trying to achieve this career since she was able to speak for god’s sake. If she doesn’t figure out what to do, she’s not going to go anywhere. After much consideration, she finally decides to just bite the proverbial bullet and have a conversation with someone who can give her advice.  
When Louise arrived at the home of the women she considered part of her family, she was lost in her own thoughts. But after steeling her nerves, she rung the doorbell.  
“Louise? Honey, what are you doing here?” Rochelle asked as she looked at the younger woman in front of her. It’s not like she had called or was with Laurel for drink night.  
“Aunt Rochelle, I need to talk to someone, and frankly, you’re the only person I would feel comfortable with right now.” Louise said, her normally composed self starting to break slightly, tears forming in her eyes.  
“Hey, no, it’s okay. Come on in sweetie.” Rochelle said, guiding the girl into the apartment. The pair walked over to kitchen island, and Rochelle poured them both a glass of wine. “Now, what’s wrong?.”  
“I just don’t know how to deal with the pressure anymore. I have so much I want to do, and I feel like I’m not going to be able to do it. I’ve had such a hard time figuring this out, so I came to you for advice”  
“Okay sure. What about?”  
“Relationships.” Louise mumbled, unable to avert her eyes from the countertop.  
“Oh.”  
After Rochelle listened to her goddaughter describe her inner struggle to her, she couldn’t help but see the similarities between them. This isn’t the first time Louise has come to her to talk about life problems, although she hadn’t been this upset before.  
“Louise, I know how much your reputation mean to you, and how you think it could stand in the way of what you’re trying to do with you life, but sweetie, you’re still in your twenties. You should be allowed to have some fun. You don’t have to settle into a serious relationship that you don’t want.”  
“But that’s what I’m trying to say, I guess do kinda want something more lasting. Not marriage or anything yet, just something more than a night together. Guys don’t tend to stay around for too long. They think I’m abrasive or something”  
“Well, hunny, to be fair, you can come off as a little…” She trailed off, unable to complete her thought.  
Predictably, Louise bit at the statement from her godmother like a fishing lure. “I know, but I can’t help it! I like being assertive. It’s who I am.”  
Rochelle chuckled at that, and tried to approach the topic again. “Okay, look at it this way, you’re saying you want some sort of relationship, but at the same time, you think you’re pushing them away. What do you think you’re doing to cause that?”  
“Well I ....” Louise started, trying to think of what may be happening. Rochelle sighed.  
“I think I know what’s happening Louise, because I used to do the same thing. Constantly weighing people up in my mind, imagining them as prospective partner material, and how our lives would look together. But I never stopped to consider how I felt about them. For the longest time, I had to constantly ask myself ‘do I like this person? Or do I just like their prospects?’ until I was able to tell right away whether or not I actually liked them. How about from now on, you do the same thing? You really try to just enjoy the people you’re with, and not focus on the aspects the press would care about, or how photogenic you think you’d be together, or what your parents would think, or how they’ll further your career, anything. Just see if you like them as a person, not as a public opinion.”  
Louise sat back and digested the older woman’s words as she took a big sip of her wine. Sighing, she realized her aunt was onto something. “All right. I’ll try.”  
Rochelle smiled and hugged the younger girl, hoping that her small encouragements helped in some way. 

\---

A few weeks later, there was a party at some club that one of the other Senate interns had told her about and asked her to join them. She decided that she needed a break, and went for the hell of it. She was off for the next two days, so she might as well.  
Halfway through the party and three Old Fashioneds later (what could she say, she’s her parent’s daughter), Louise took a seat at a booth towards the back of the club. At this point, the music playing was just loud and obnoxious, and her head was slowly beginning to ache. She was about to get up and leave when someone slid into the seat across from her.  
“Do you mind if I sit here? I’m sorry, I don’t mean to intrude, but the single seats are taken, and this music is making me exhausted. I’ll get up if you want me to though.” She looked up at the man across from her and smirked.  
“No, it’s fine. What’s your name?”

\---

Louise woke up the next morning with a throbbing headache and a blurry memory of where exactly she was. Last thing she remembered clearly was calling a taxi and waiting in front of the club with James, laughing about something.  
She slowly sat up, realizing she was not, in fact, in her apartment. And from a brief glance around, she was most likely in James’s. Just what she needed. Another single night. Grabbing her dress from the floor and throwing it back on, she started looking around the room with her customary curiosity. The TV was playing softly in the corner, James was missing from the bed, and there was a laptop and stack of papers piled on the desk on the opposite wall.  
Louise did a quick check around the room, and paced over to the desk. She was about to look at the papers when she heard a news story on the TV. Turning her attention the announcer, she saw some story about her family rolling. Apparently, Jacob was making his bullshit political comments again on Twitter. Rolling her eyes, she glanced back to the papers. There was a printed copy of a newspaper and a paycheck on desk. Looking even closer, she read the company name, The Washington Post.  
“Oh, fuck me.” Louise thought to herself, dragging her hand down her face. The first guy she sleeps with in weeks, and it has to be a reporter who could now write, first hand, the tabloid piece that would kill her. As she set about grabbing the rest of her things off the floor, the bedroom door opened. She whipped around, trying her best not to act like she was going to lose her mind any second.  
James stood in the doorway and gestured towards the hall in a friendly way. “Hey. I’m not sure how you feel about things like this, but I made some breakfast if you’re interested. I figured I would let you sleep. Don’t wanna be one of those guys who gets what they want and is a dick the next morning.”  
“Sure.” Louise says hesitantly. As the pair walked into the small kitchen towards the table, she got increasingly more anxious about trying to confront him. She knew she was going to have to be abrasive, despite what Rochelle had told her. Self-preservation came before making good impressions on people she knew she wouldn’t need in the future. But at the same time, this situation was different. This guy now held a major card over her head. And honestly, that terrified her. Louise made it a point in her career to always have the upper hand, but now? She had to be smart and act wisely to get herself out of this one.  
As they sat down, Louise finally got a look at his face that she would actually be able to remember. He had a soft-looking face and warm brown eyes, and a slight beard along with hair over his lip that nicely complemented his closely-cropped dark hair. She also took note of the subtle gold earrings, something that she usually would never find attractive but she had to admit worked with his soft features and friendly demeanor. To his credit, James tried to keep up small talk as they ate, but eventually Louise was at her wits end and broke her silence.  
“Look, I’m going to come off as bit harsh here, but did you know who I was last night when you sat down?” Louise asked, looking him straight in the eyes. James sighed, and his shoulders fell.  
“No. Honestly, I was a little too out of it to notice. But I swear if I had, I would have left you alone.”  
Louise was about to reply, but he continued.  
“Judging from your face when I walked in this morning, you saw the papers on my desk. I know how this might sound a little too convenient for it to be true, but I swear I didn’t know.”  
“So now I take it you’re going to write the story of your career, right?” Louise retorted, her mother’s dry sarcasm in her voice. She knew she was being a little too mean to this person who so far had given her no reason to dislike him, but assertiveness came easily and was the quickest way to dig herself out of a hole, so she let it pass.  
Looking in her eyes, James replied, “And ruin your’s? No way, I wouldn’t do that to you.”  
“You just met me last night.” She snapped, but with less venom than before.  
“But I’ve known about you basically my whole life. Everyone has. You’re like the only person your age who cares about what their political actions actually do.” He punctuated this statement with a pointed look at her.  
“What do you mean?”  
James sighed once again and laid down his fork. “When I was younger, there was a low income housing bill in the Senate. Most of the Republicans were against it, and since they held the majority, it looked like it wasn’t gonna pass. If it hadn’t, my mom and I would have been out on the streets. But then you talked to your dad about it and got him to change his mind. Because you two convinced some of the moderates and on-edge Republicans to vote for it, my mom and I got to keep our place.”  
Louise sat back in her chair, speechless for once.  
“Now tell me, would you ruin the career of someone who’s done that for you before they’d even gotten started?”  
She had no good reply for that, so she nodded diplomatically and began eating her breakfast in earnest, as much of a white flag as she could offer. Despite this, the two continued to eat in silence and the tension in the room grew. It was a horribly awkward situation through and through, but both parties were trying to make the best of it.  
Finally Louise could stand it no longer. “So obviously you’re a reporter, any reason why?” she asked, breaking the tension.  
“Well, I’ve always had an interest in writing. When I was younger, I would enter contests and stuff to try to earn some extra money around the house. An English teacher of mine was the one who gave me the idea to write professionally. She had approached me with an internship for a small paper after reading an exposé assignment I wrote. It snowballed from there. And honestly, I loved the thought that my words could affect people of all different walks of life. How about you? How did you get your interest in politics?”  
“Well, you know about my family history. It was kinda obvious at least one of the kids was gonna go the political route.” She made an offhand gesture at that, having given this explanation to many a date who asked.  
“Yeah, but why do you like it? There’s got to be more to it than your family.” James prodded gently.  
In all seriousness, Louise had never been asked that before by a date. Sure, she was asked about her family all the time, but it seemed like James was actually interested to hear about her as a person, not just as a public figure. She had to admit, she was starting to wonder if maybe he wasn’t just a one nighter, and continued on with piqued interest.  
“My earliest memory of doing anything political was when I was about three, I think. I was in the grocery store with my mom, and I was wearing my favorite shirt. It wasn't anything fancy, but it had the Hillary Clinton "H" logo on it in pink or something. I loved it. Anyway. So I had wandered away from my mom and was strolling around all by my three year-old self when this older lady comes up to me. Honestly she looked like a complete granny, white hair and big glasses and everything. So she comes up to me and says ‘Do you know what you are wearing, little girl? Why did your mommy make you wear that?’ And I just mumbled something like ‘But it's my favorite’ and she said ‘You shouldn't wear that sweetie, that woman is evil.’ And I had no idea how to respond to that, so I hit her. It was on the leg and wasn't hard, but I still hit her. She got really mad and stomped off. My mom comes running up to me, grabs my hand and we finish up. When we were in the car, she said to me ‘Louise, don't you EVER hit people. EVER. Do you hear me? You may NEVER hit someone.’ And I said something about how she was being mean to me about my shirt and she said something I'll never forget. She said ‘Louise, hitting people doesn't help. If you want to beat someone up, you have to do it with words. Words are the strongest tool we have and have the power of a million fists. Next time someone is mean to you, you beat them up with your voice, okay?’ And I thought about that all the way home and all night. And the next time someone said something mean to me, I was ready. And nothing ever felt better in my entire life. And I decided then and there that that was how I wanted to feel my entire life." As Louise finished the story she was overcome by the memory and sat back in her chair for a moment.  
“Well shit, that’s powerful.” James said, sounding like he was as absorbed in the story as she had been.  
She laughed at his response, and with that, the remaining tension was broken. They finished eating, taking bites between firing questions at each other and answering just as rapidly. She learned that his mother lived in the city and worked as a youth counselor at DC General. His parents were divorced and he wasn’t particularly close to his father, but he had paid for him to go to school at Howard University. His personal views were liberal but he tried to write for a bipartisan audience. He liked to cook and take yoga classes in his spare time. She shared with him the things he already knew (she had two siblings, her parents were in politics long before she was born, and she had lived in the city her entire life), and the things he didn’t (she couldn’t cook to save her life, she liked jogging but only when it was dark out, she hoped to apply for a real position on her uncle’s staff next year, and she really missed her brother in LA).  
As they were piling their dishes in the sink at the end of the meal, Louise felt a familiar rush of adrenaline usually reserved for when she was in the thick of a particularly satisfying argument. Channeling the impulsiveness coursing through her veins, she stepped up behind him at the sink and draped herself loosely across his back, joining her hands together across his chest and resting her chin on his shoulder (which took some effort, as she guessed he had 10 inches on her). In response, he slowly turned to face her, gradually winding his fingers through her long blonde hair. Standing on her toes and pulling him towards her, Louise brought their lips together. In response, he pressed her up against the counter, carefully avoiding the mess they made by the sink. After a brief moment they broke apart, but Louise was feeling particularly bold and was unwilling to let it go to waste. Yanking him back towards her, she once again crashed their lips together, ignoring slight discomfort of being pinned between him and the edge of the sink. Wordlessly sensing this, he boosted her up so that she was sitting on the the countertop, and they continued their kiss until they were both out of breath and had to separate for air. As she turned back to him, she noticed he was grinning at her. Quirking her eyebrow in question, he gave her a sly look and said with a slight laugh "we're finally the same height now" She responded by lightly smacking him on the arm, but resumed her position. She wasn't usually a fan of men teasing her about her height (she was a mere five two, a far cry from her parents), but in this case she could make an exception.  
She became vaguely aware of the hour, and one glance over his shoulder at the kitchen clock confirmed her suspicions. Sighing, she shifted her weight to the edge of the counter. "In all seriousness, I should head out before my sister mounts a search. She's worse than my dad sometimes"  
"Can I have your number?" he questioned, eyes searching her face to gauge her reaction.  
"Sure" she replied, a little more effortlessly than usual. "Just know that I don't answer at work or most evenings when I'm catching up on the news"  
"So basically, you'll reply when you see fit and not as long as it interferes with running the government?"  
"My, you catch on quickly" she drawled, leaning forward so that her arms were resting on his shoulders. She played with the hem of his shirt at the nape of his neck, running the fabric absently through her fingers.  
"It's the only way I can keep up with you, Louise Healy-Ritter"  
"Get used to it" She replied, leaning down and kissing him once more.


End file.
